


what isn't there to love

by timothytheowl



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, its sounds bad but itll be okay in the end i swear, strangers to friends to enemies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timothytheowl/pseuds/timothytheowl
Summary: this is my first story that im posting anywhere. I have a grand plan for this story so I hope itll work outplease be patient with uploads cuz I have no clue when they'll be coming. I apologize in advance...thank you to @toris-sunshine on tumblr for helping me edit





	what isn't there to love

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first story that im posting anywhere. I have a grand plan for this story so I hope itll work out  
> please be patient with uploads cuz I have no clue when they'll be coming. I apologize in advance...  
> thank you to @toris-sunshine on tumblr for helping me edit

If you asked Jisung what he saw in his future, he would brightly tell you about how he would graduate college, find himself a beautiful wife, get his dream job, maybe have a kid or two, and live happily in west fucking Colorado.  
What a load of bullshit that was.  
Jisung could not for the life of him see anything in his future. He never understood how everyone else around him seemed to have a plan for their own futures, yet he couldn’t imagine life beyond tomorrow. All he knew for certain was that he would die. He didn't know when, but he imagined he’d have control over that date if his thoughts continued down the path they'd been on for too many years.  
But no one wanted to hear that.  
No, all anyone ever wanted to hear about was the great things he would accomplish. They wanted to hear about his outrageous goals for the future, and how he would overcome the difficulties life threw at him. They would have no confidence in him until he showed his passion, and they would then believe in him.  
It was all infuriatingly predictable.  
The only thing he had put any real thought into, the only thing that was for certain in his life, the one thing no one ever asked about, was death. It made sense, of course, that no one would ask or talk about death. It was generally a thing that people didn't like to think about. Humans by nature were afraid of death. Adults never wanted to encourage the thought of it in teenagers, in a time where depression and anxiety already have clasped their cold hands around their necks, and claimed the lives of so many. No, death, upon anyone, was terrifying. Living while a friend dies fills you with survivors guilt, sometimes to the point that you would take your own life. Relation can mean next to nothing when it comes to death, as you can be filled with the same sadness even if you don't know someone who's died. now you'll never even get the chance to know them.  
Yeah he thought too much.  
It didn't matter. He would never say these things out loud, of course. Not only would no one listen or care, but any poor soul unfortunate enough to be near him while he was thinking of death would avoid him like the plague afterwards out of fear or caution towards his depressing thoughts. He personally didn’t think of these thoughts as depressing, they were just thoughts, and they were fact, so there was really no harm in them. Thoughts are not tangible, and therefore can’t hurt him, unless he were to act on them.  
Of course that would never happen, because above all things, Han Jisung was a coward.  
Sometimes, just sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so much of a coward. No one would be subjected to his dark thoughts again, plus he wouldn’t be wasting food or other resources as he did while selfishly, foolishly, cowardly staying alive. He wasn’t going to get anywhere big or meaningful in his future, so what was the point in trying anymore at this point in life? People would set goals too high for themselves, then spend their lives regretfully at a desk job, watching their life pass them by. But what about the people without goals? Would they also sink lower? Would they sink to the bottom, and slip into death, unnoticed?  
Something about that sounded wonderfully appealing.  
While others would go through life hoping to stick out, to make it big, to become famous, Jisung preferred a quieter life. He didn't want to be famous, as he knew that would be too stressful for him. He didn't want to make it big, he just wanted a small, quiet life where he could peacefully blend in and not have to worry about the thoughts of peers or coworkers. He just needed a schedule to follow for his life. Structure was all he required to be content, and he didn't dare wish for anything more than contentedness. Jisung needed a schedule to focus on because when he thought too hard, his mind went inevitably to that awful act he had never been able to carry out throughout the years.  
It wasn’t that he thought death was his only option at this point, he just knew that he would die and didn’t want to delay the inevitable to a time where it would actually hurt.  
But he was stuck in a world that loved beginnings, with a mind that only thought of the end. He could make it work. He could blend in. He would have to. Plus, he had experience. He had been doing it for 16 years, and he had done a fairly good job of seeming as normal as possible to the outside world.  
But there were always nights where he asked himself if even pretending was worth it.  
He was not here to dwell on thoughts that couldn’t hurt him, however. He was put on this earth to do something fantastic, he just hadn’t found it yet. He hadn’t find it for 16 long years. Then one day he found it. He found his compass. He had picked up a mundane lump of coal from the side of the road and had somehow seen a diamond buried within, a north star that could lead him through life as he was supposed to live it. He found Minho.


End file.
